


The Past

by Melladosia



Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Gay John Laurens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melladosia/pseuds/Melladosia
Summary: After six years of being ghosted by Alexander after he left in the middle of the night, John meets him unexpectedly in a downtown Manhattan bar due to his friend, Lafayette.





	The Past

He didn't come to this bar often. In fact, he didn't come to bars any. To be even more specific, it was not common for John to leave the house much at all. And as he was torturously dragged through the crowd by his best friend, Lafayette, he instantly knew why anxiety bloomed within the deepest trenches of his stomach and infested his consciousness when it came to the task of socializing. 

Sure, anyone could be nervous upon entering a bar for the first time. There was a lot going on at once and an infinite flow of noise and lights and people and movement to feed one's typical social anxiety, but for some reason John felt more nervous than just, well, nervous. In fact it seemed like a crime to even put how he was feeling next to that word. Noise commerced and wailed around him endlessly, like waves repetitively lapping against a shore. His head felt as if knives were jabbing at his brain. His heart raced and he felt every single beat it skipped. He needed to sit down.

"Isn't this fun? See, I told you you'd survive leaving the house!" John couldn't imagine how he looked right now, sweaty, anxiety-ridden, wide-eyed and red-faced, basically, he looked like someone who was not surviving leaving the house for the first time in weeks. When his boughts of depression hit, nothing could get him to leave the four walls of his bedroom. Well, almost nothing. Nothing except for an annoying ass best friend who never left you alone until you gave in to what he wanted.

Asshole, he thought fondly about the man.

Realizing an answer was expected, he began to stutter, "Oh-um- yeah-"

"Great! Because I'm about to make your night even better. Wait here."

"Laf-" he started to say, when suddenly his best friend let him go and disappeared into the crowd. Feeling like a dog who had been left in the middle of a busy street by its owner, John huddled into himself, hoping to disappear. He wiped his sweaty hands off on his pants but it was no use as he felt moisture drip deep into his palm once more as the night dragged on. Minute by minute passed, and Lafayette was nowhere to be seen. A blonde haired man was getting awfully close from one side of the dance floor, winking at him before biting his lip and starting to stalk towards him. 

"Oh, um- okay. I'll just- yeah, move over here..." John talked to himself as he moved around a couple of people, making his way to the bar. He could not survive any longer whilst sober.

Upon nearing the bar, he spotted Lafayette sitting at the counter, talking to a stranger next to him. Curiously, John approached, trying to see if he recognized the man, but from this distance, nothing popped into his head. 

He sat down next to the pair and ordered a drink. 

Turning to face his friend, he caught a pair of eyes on him, a pair of deep, inquisitive, mesmerizing eyes staring right into his anxiety-ridden depths. He felt his stomach churn, but not with nervousness. He remembered this feeling. Remembered it very well, thank you. Dear Jesus.

Holy fucking satan.

Oh my god. 

John was speechless. It was hard to breath, let alone speak.

Alexander.

His old college roommate, his old boyfriend who had moved away when his mother got sick to take care of her, leaving John devastated. The love of his life. 

Lafayette seemed to be enjoying this. He smiled as he sipped his drink and silently watched Alexander, whom looked deep in thought and unreadable as always, yet soft and loveable and incredibly beautiful, and John, who probably had this dumbass expression of someone who had just won the lottery and also that their dog died at the same time. Utter confusion.

"I-oh my god, how-" 

"I have my ways." Lafayette finally spoke as he set his drink down on the counter. "It took me hours of stalking to find this dude's number, but you talk about him all the time, and you've refused to leave the house, so be grateful, frecklefuck." Still grinning, Lafayette stood up. He placed a tip on the bar table and then began to walk away, an evil smile of success plastered across his face.

"Wait, where are you going?" Panicking, John stood up too. Lafayette wasn't going to leave him here alone, was he? What would they talk about? What if he blew up at the other man for leaving him heartbroken when he offered to come with him?

"Home! I'll leave you two lovebirds be. Call me if you need me, Jackie- and you're welcome. I just got you laid! This is like a comedy movie. Or a fanfiction." Laughing to himself, the man disappeared into the crowd of flashing lights, dancing couples and drunk people who looked underage yet were still somehow present, stumbling limbs, drunken faces and all. 

John slowly sat. He turned to face Alexander. Despite how angry John was that he never called, that he never visited, that he never gave him updates on what was going on- his deeply rooted, unforgotten love for the man overwhelmed everything else. He looked Alexander in the eye and found himself unable to keep his lock on the other man's powerful gaze. 

Exhaling, he felt all anxiety leave his body for the first time in years. Then, magically, beautifully, Alexander's hand reached for him, cupping his cheek. John closed his eyes. He leaned into the slender hand, warm fingers, reaching his arm up to graze his thumb across the back of Alex's hand smoothly. Gently. As if he were too rough with the man he might disappear into thin air. 

Again.

Alexander lowered his hand and rested it in his lap, and it made John smile to realize that his old boyfriend remembered how he liked a moment to take in what just happened. 

"I-um. How's your mother?" This was the only thing John could think of to say. He gazed at Alexander over the rim of his glass, and the affects of the Bloody Mary slowly flooded in like a small wave rather than a flood. He couldn't help but notice how alarmingly Alexander's attractiveness had blossomed with the gift of subtle maturity, acne replaced by smooth skin and chestnut stubble. His hair was still untameable and long- John understood the struggle. He felt happiness-if that was possible- bloom in the deepest parts of him as he redirected a stray piece of his long curly hair behind his ear. But his smile proved to lack the everlasting touch that he wished it to as Alexander responded, and it was just then that John realized he'd hesitated to respond, a sense of sadness flickering over his beautiful features.

"She died just last March. The cancer was spreading quicker than a wildfire, they said." Alexander paused to take a long sip from his drink. John could imagine leaning in and getting drunk just off of the toxicity of his breath. He wanted to. He wanted to do everything and anything with this model of a man here in this downtown Manhattan bar. But the past lingered like an old friend, and he still hadn't found it in him to forgive Alexander for leaving in the middle of the night without a trace when John promised to drop out and come with him. He sighed and closed his eyes, a forbidden silent tear slipping out. John hadn't expected to cry tonight.

When he opened his eyes, the world blurry and disorientated, Alexander was looking at him with overwhelming guilt evident in the depths of his eyes. He seemed to be searching for what to say. 

"John-" Alex reached out to take his hand, but was rejected. 

"No, Alex. You broke me when you left. How could you do that? I told you I would come with you, and then-and then- then you leave without me and don't contact me for six years? I had no idea what happened to you! You could've died and I would've had no goddamn clue." The heartbroken remains of the past seeped out through John's words as he expressed what he'd kept in for years. He always felt like maybe he bothered the other man, and Alexander was plotting all along for a way to rid of his annoying, clingy, depressed boyfriend. For someone to say "I'll always be there." Only to go missing was nothing other than devastating. It was as if someone had pulled his life support yet somehow he was dragged on through life, barely surviving, always on the edge. 

Alone.

So of course his grudges still remained. John firmly believed that love could overpower anything, but the hurt and the betrayal he felt in this moment seemed to conquer all that ever dared to exist.

A hand grazed his knee. He looked up. "John. Nothing I could ever say would even come close to making everything up to you. But I want you to know that I only did what I thought was best for you. When you told me you were coming with me, dropping out of college and leaving all you've ever known? Ruining your life for me? There was no way I could let that happen. I'd never forgive myself."

Alexander removed his hand, swallowing back what appeared to be tears. John had never seen him cry before. He softened for a moment, before his face hardened as the pain of the past became all too familiar once more. 

"And how do you think I felt, Alex? Nothing else in the world matters as long as I have you here with me. No amount of time could change that, but that's what's made the past six years so hard. I thought that you wanted to get rid of me. I was always just that overly-depressed, needy boyf-"

"Stop. That is completely absurd." Alex moved closer to him, and the mood between the two lightened. "You are everything to me, John Laurens. Never forget that. It has been so difficult without you these past few years. I can't believe you're here with me right now." His voice was gentle and loving and considerate, and John was instantly soothed. Immediately he remembered why he'd fallen for this man so easily.

John's eyes were half-closed, lured by the man's tone. Eyeing his -very kissable looking, if you ask him- lips, he realized they weren't chapped, as if Alex had discovered what chapstick was since the last time they met. John might've been to blame for ruining Alex's lips with his aggressive kisses during their, admittedly constant, sex. The urge to be unimaginably closer to him became overwhelming as the alcohol's effects finally begged to be known. John didn't resist. When their lips touched it felt like he'd won back a piece of the past- one he'd been searching for forever but hadn't been able to find.

The man was gentle with him, snaking a hand up his neck and twisting a finger in his hair affectionately, and a sort of agreement seemed to disclose between them at every touch.

"Let's get out of here," John whispered.

Neither of them had any idea of leaving from this point on.


End file.
